


Closer to the Light

by jnic84



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Jedi, Movie: Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Movie: Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Star Wars: The Force Awakens Spoilers, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers, possible stormpilot - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 15:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22158019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jnic84/pseuds/jnic84
Summary: Summary: You rejected the Force once, but it’s pull won’t be denied.Pairing: Kylo Ren x ReaderSpoilers: No TROS spoilers. Takes place just before The Force Awakens and continues from there. Rey will feature but not as heavily.
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Ben Solo/Reader, Kylo Ren/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 92





	1. Chapter 1

You laid on the mass of blankets that you called a bed, staring blankly up at the drooping top of your modest tent. Sleep hadn’t come easily last night, nor any night before it for many years.

It wasn’t the heat or the constant muted glow of the sun that kept you awake. The nightmares, your memories did that all on their own. You spent years running, trying to outpace them. But they were never far behind. So you gave up the chase.

Now you found yourself on Abafar in self-imposed isolation.

People avoided the desert planet. That’s what you liked about it. It was quiet. 

You spent most days in the mines. They were remote and your quarry dangerous, but they provided much needed shade from the unrelenting sun that cast an ever bearing orange hue to the sky.

The work was solitary, but if you were fortunate enough to find a decent supply of Rhydonium you would venture into Pons Ora to sell the powerful yet unstable fuel to any one willing to offer credits for it. Not many people lived on Abafar, but pilots regularly appeared in search of fuel and water. Both were in good supply.

You sighed, running a hand over your face as you tossed aside your covers and stretched. 

It was time yet again to make the trek into Pons Ora. Your speeder had seen better days but it still did it’s job. You had no fuel to sell, but you’d stowed away some credits for a new coupling that would hopefully keep your speeder from finally crapping out on you and leaving you stranded in the mines one day soon. 

You pulled on your worn jacket, tied your hair into a messy ponytail, and slid on a scratched pair of goggles as you stepped outside, squinting at the brightness of the sun that shone through the ever present dusty haze. 

A good time later you had Pons Ora in your sights. A number of ships were parked along the outskirts of town, which was typical. One caught your eye, a black T-70 X-wing. 

X-wings weren’t special, but it was the care shown to this particular spacecraft that stood out. 

Putting it out of your mind, you picked up the part you needed at the market stall and decided to stop in the tavern for a bite before heading out. While water was surprisingly plentiful in the desert, food was not. Your rations in your encampment would keep you full but were bland and unsatisfying. 

There were a dozen people milling around. The barkeep was speaking in short sentences to a man with an orange and white droid at his side. The handful of tables were largely unoccupied as most lingered near the bar. People hardly stopped in for the ambiance. The faster they ate and drank their share, the faster they could leave this sandy pit.

You collapsed onto a chair at an empty table and nodded at the waitress who glanced your way. She had come to expect you every few weeks and knew your usual order. 

Pulling the newly purchased coupling from your bag, you eyed the wear and tear on it. It was a scavenged piece but it should serve your needs. At least until you brought in a big enough haul of Rhydonium to afford a better land speeder.

“Mind if I join you?” 

Your head jerked up and you eyed the stranger curiously. 

He was too pretty to be from this wasteland. Though you could see the light sheen of perspiration on his brow and the particles of dust that clung to his face, it gave him a more rugged instead of simply dirty appearance. You almost loathed him for the ease of his smile and the grace of his bearing.

Glancing around, you eyed the empty tables and vacant chairs, raising a suspicious brow at the man you most certainly considered a rogue.

“If you insist,” you shrugged, sliding out the chair across from you with a push of your foot. His grin only widened, all charm.

The droid at his side, a BB unit if you had to guess, chirped. You weren’t familiar with its clicks and squeaks, but the man just chuckled softly and patted it on the head. Well, what you supposed was its head.

You straightened in your seat as the waitress slid a small platter of food in front of you and your unwanted guest waved away your mild concern at appearing rude.

“Don’t starve on my account,” he said casually as he settled into his chair. “I’m Poe,” he introduced himself. The droid rolled forward slightly, as if to nudge him on the arm. “And this is BB-8,” he added with chagrin. Apparently BB-8 refused to be ignored.

You nodded in acknowledgement as you tore a piece of bread and stuffed it into your mouth.

Silence lingered and he shifted in his seat. “And you are?”, he gently prodded you.

“Wondering what you want,” you muttered, and his grin wavered slightly.

“You’re not from around here,” you continued, looking him up and down. You had to give him credit, he didn’t shy away from your perusal. “Or I would have seen you before. You haven’t been to the mines, or else you’d be covered head to toe in sand and dust like the rest of us. And judging from the state of your droid and that shiny X-wing I bet is yours, you’ve got money. Or at least access to people who have a few credits to their name.

“Which tells me you’re not likely in need of any volatile fuel like Rhydonium, not when you take such good care of your ship.” Poe leaned back in his chair, looking far too calm and relaxed for your comfort. “And considering fuel or desperation are the only things that bring people to this hunk of rock, it has me wondering why you’re here.”

“Is that what brought you here?” he murmured softly. You tried to hide your flinch at the compassion in his eyes. “Desperation?”

“Yes,” you admitted flatly, taking him by surprise at your frankness. “What brings you here?”

“A mission,” Poe conceded, concluding that honesty may in fact be the best policy. “On behalf of the General.”

“The General,” you repeated skeptically. You didn’t keep up with much in the way of galactic news, not that you were completely unaware of the turmoil caused by the so-called First Order. But you could hardly imagine why some General would send some pretty flyboy your way.

“General Leia Organa,” Poe elaborated. 

For a moment you stopped breathing, and then you were a flurry of motions. 

You shoved your plate away, reaching into your bag and tossing a few credits on the table as you rushed to stand.

Poe reached out with a steady hand, stopping you before you fled, urging you with gentle pressure on your arm to sit back down.

No one spoke as you took note of the barkeep and waitress eyeing you both curiously. When their attention was once again diverted, you turned back to Poe. You knew your eyes must look wild to him, but you cared little for appearances.

“Whatever Leia wants,” your voice cracked at your urgent whisper. “I can’t do it.”

“She wants you to come home,” Poe said softly, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze before he released you. He sat a bit farther back, giving you some much needed space.

“This is home now,” you shook your head. 

“You’re wasting away here,” he frowned, and BB-8 let out a solemn noise. “Do you even know what’s going on out there? The Resistance is struggling, the General is doing all she can but she’s been on her own for far too long. The Republic is no help. The First Order is terrorizing whole planets, and Kylo Ren—“

“Enough,” you snapped, and Poe tensed at your rebuke. 

“That isn’t my fight.” And it wasn’t. There had been a time when you thought you might have been born to be a hero, but you had been proven wrong. Horribly wrong.

“Leia sent you on a fool’s errand,” you sighed, pushing your chair back and standing straight. “Tell her…tell her I’m sorry. That I wish—I wish things were different.”

“The General doesn’t give her trust easily,” Poe countered, standing and taking a cautious step forward. “If she thinks you can make a difference, you can.”

“I’m a passable pilot,” you confessed. “But useless in a dog fight. And I am no Jedi, not after—” Poe’s eyes widened and you were left wondering how much Leia told him about you. “The help she needs, the Resistance needs…Luke Skywalker is your only hope. You’d be better off looking for him.”

“She said you’d put up a fight,” he admitted with a crooked twist of his lips. “Just do me a favor,” he pled, pulling a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. It was folded twice and a bit wrinkled and he didn’t bother opening it before sliding it into your palm. 

“If you change your mind, go to these coordinates. Ask for Maz Kanata, tell her Poe Dameron sent you. She’ll get you home. Your real home.” He gave you a sad smile, waited until you pocketed the paper, and then left the tavern with his droid in tow. 

You found your feet glued to the floor, shock and surprise giving way to sadness and resignation.

It had been so long since you’d allowed yourself to think of Leia. She had been the closest thing you had to a mother during your training. And she’d lost so much more than you all those years ago.

Now she was a General, the leader of the Resistance. And you were envious of her ability to move forward. To do what was necessary.

But envy or not, you didn’t make a move to follow Poe. Instead you picked up your bag, note clenched in your hand as you dragged yourself towards your speeder. 

You didn’t look back to see if that telltale black X-wing remained as you sped past the edge of town. 

When you reached your encampment, you got to work on switching out the coupling on your speeder. With that done you crawled back into the shade of your tent.

For the first time in a long time you tried to meditate. Tried to find, if not peace, then the quiet that would calm your troubled mind. 

Instead, you only remembered.

_______________

_You shook uncontrollably, crouched in the corner of the temple, poorly hidden but silently praying the darkness provided much needed cover. You didn’t remember how you got there. One moment you were peacefully meditating and the next the sound of screams urged you to your feet._

_The sight of bodies, your fellow students your mind supplied as you stood stupefied, sent you running. There had been no plan, no courageous attempt to confront the unseen attacker, instead you just ran._

_An act of cowardice some might say, but you were no hero. You may have been studying to be a Jedi, but in the end you were still young, a student in the ways of the Force. This was supposed to be a safe place. Master Luke would protect you. You held unwavering faith in your Master._

_And yet the corpses at your feet spoke volumes. Nowhere was safe and Luke Skywalker wasn’t to be your savior._

_Hiding in the temple was a reflex, and you weren’t the only one to do so. Moments after you crawled to your darkened corner, a boy no more than thirteen came crashing through the doors. You heard the heavy thud of footsteps behind him and you instinctively cringed, burying your head in your knees as you heard the boy cut down by his pursuer._

_You couldn’t stop the tears streaming down your face but you forced your breathing to slow, trying desperately to draw no attention from the man who heartlessly slaughtered your friends._

_The footsteps paused, you stopped breathing entirely, and you shuddered as they picked up once more, slowly making their way towards the shadows you cloaked yourself in._

_You felt his presence as he stood before you, eyeing the darkness, and you looked up in grim resignation. If this was how you were to die, you would look your killer in the eye. You would see the villain who stole your innocence, your idea of safety and security, your utterly foolish naivety, and make him remember your face._

_Lifting your head, a hint of light illuminated the familiar angles of his face, and you felt true despair. Your voice sounded pitiful even to your own ears._

_“Ben?”_

_______________

The first few weeks after the massacre, you had frequent nightmares. You dreamed of him carelessly running you through, leaving you to die among your fallen comrades. 

Eventually the nightmares gave way to absolute blackness. If you dreamed at all you had no memory of it. 

You didn’t know why now, after all these years, the visions returned. But this was no mere nightmare. Instead your resting mind endlessly repeated the events of that night as they happened. 

The look of blind rage on Ben’s face, replaced slowly by a terrifying emptiness as he studied your stunned expression. You swore he nearly flinched when he heard you whisper his name. His hands curled into fists and you pulled your knees tighter to you chest, tensing as you waited for him to strike.

And then there was a rush of steps and he was gone. Leaving you alone with only the dead boy on the unnaturally quiet temple grounds.

Luke eventually found you. Asked why Ben had spared you in his wrath. But you had no answer then. You had no answer now.

Ben Solo had been your friend. You had even harbored something of a crush on him. But neither one of you spoke of such things. Jedis were meant for solitary lives after all. 

But Ben had many friends among his peers. He sometimes expressed doubt of their sincerity. He was the son of Leia Organa and Han Solo. His uncle was the Master. Many students wanted to be in good standing with him. And Ben was, admittedly, a bit quiet and socially awkward.

That’s where you two were similar. You lacked his legendary parentage but shared his tendency toward introspection and hesitancy to trust. 

Luke supposed that perhaps you meant a great deal to his troubled nephew. You disagreed. 

Ben had been enraged, so overwhelmed by his anger as he mindlessly slayed everyone around him. Maybe he had been startled when you said his name? Maybe his wrath had exhausted itself? Maybe he took pity on you?

Whatever his reason, you no longer allowed yourself to dwell on it. There was no point. 

After Luke disappeared, so did you. Leia had hoped to keep you close, but you couldn’t be the replacement for her wayward son. 

You spent years trying to lose yourself, and any connection to Force. You saw what it did to people. Luke was hunted as the last true Jedi, Ben was lost to the dark. And you wanted to no part of it. 

And with that thought, you ripped up the crumpled note slipped to you by Poe. 

This was home now.

___________

General Organa had hardly placed all her hopes on a fledgling Jedi who hid herself away.

She knew if the Resistance was to have any hope Luke had to be found. And before the First Order discovered his whereabouts.

When word came of Lor San Tekka and the missing piece of the map, the only map that might lead to her brother, she didn’t hesitate to send her best man to retrieve it.

Poe left immediately for Jakku. He had been disappointed in his failure to bring the girl to the General, even though Leia didn’t blame him for your refusal. He was eager to bring General Organa good news. He knew she was in desperate need of it.

It all happened so fast.

His meeting with Lor San Tekka interrupted by the arrival of the First Order. By Kylo Ren himself. 

He sent BB-8 off with the map, knowing he had little to no chance of escaping. Not when that would mean standing idly by as innocent people were slaughtered. Not when he could at least try to stop it.

And he did try. 

But he failed. 

San Tekka was dead, the village had been laid to waste, and he was now strapped to a table staring down the masked man who ordered the massacre. 

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board.” Ren’s flattery, though insincere, made Poe straighten and hold his head up high. “Comfortable?”

Kylo Ren’s voice, distorted and low, would frighten an average man. But Poe was no average man.

“Not really,” he smirked through his split lip. The pain that radiated from his face and body from the beating the troopers gave him strangely helped him focus. 

“I'm impressed. No one has been able to get out of you what you did with the map.” Ren showed no emotion, but Poe knew he was not pleased. It made him smile.

“Might wanna rethink your technique,” the pilot offered with a huff.

Leaning forward, Ren reached out a hand. It hovered teasingly beside Poe’s head, and he tensed. He waited for the pain, which was swift as Ren tried to pry into his memories.

Gritting his teeth, Poe fought to keep him out of his thoughts.

“Where is it?” Ren entreated. He seemed so calm as he easily decimated any defenses Poe threw up in his mind.

“The Resistance will not be intimidated,” Poe bit out. 

Ren redoubled his efforts. “Where. Is. It?” 

No amount of training could prepare him for the sheer power that Ren had. As at last his defenses were breached, Poe could only scream.

His memories flashed before his eyes in rapid succession. 

_Lor San Tekka. The village. The map. BB-8. The General. The desert. You._

**You.**

And then his mind was his own again and he let out an agonized cry. 

Ren tore his hand away, standing suddenly at attention, glaring down at Poe through the blank expression of his mask.

“The **girl** ,” he hissed. And Poe felt his heart drop into his stomach. 

He didn’t know much about you. The General didn’t offer much about your past. And it wasn’t his place to ask. But whatever connection the two of you shared, Ren was aware of it too. And considering your mention of the Jedi, of Luke Skywalker, whatever Ren’s interest in you, it wasn’t good.

“Where is she?” Ren demanded.

Poe swallowed, and looked him in the eye. “The Resistance will not be—”

And then he was screaming again.


	2. Chapter 2

Poe had felt immense relief when a stormtrooper, of all people, managed to help him escape the First Order. 

He could honestly admit he had not seen that coming. From what they knew of the Order, troopers were taken as children and brainwashed into loyal servants who laid down their lives for the men and women in power who viewed them as expendable. He never thought he would meet one who could break whatever conditioning they had been put through.

Not that it was impossible to imagine, but more so that the Resistance believed anyone who the Order failed to control would have been killed on sight. 

Whether Finn was just lucky or not had yet to be seen. He was no longer FN-2187, and it would take time to see if Finn could be a man that the Resistance could truly rely on. But Poe had hope that Finn would be a valuable asset, as well as someone he could call a friend one day.

That is, if he even made it off Jakku.

After they crashed into the planet that Finn was so reluctant to return to, Poe had woken alone and injured. 

And annoyingly missing his favorite jacket.

The fighter looked to have split upon entry into Jakku. He couldn’t find a trace of Finn and didn’t have the means to look for BB-8 on his own. 

Running into a scavenger named Naka Iit was pure luck. 

Poe had turned on the charm and told the man all about his rather epic escape from the First Order. He thought Naka would be taken aback by his heroics. Instead, the man thought he was crazy.

Well, crazy, but entertaining as well. So Naka agreed to give him a ride to the Niima Outpost.

And because Poe’s life was nothing if not an adventure, they were attacked and shot at by scavengers along the way. Poe, as skilled and scrappy as ever, managed to evade their attackers and they reached the outpost in one piece, if a little worse for wear.

From the outpost he was able to charter passage to Yavin IV from a merchant. And once planet-side was reunited with his beloved X-wing.

His return to D’Qar was unexpected but extremely welcome.

He could hear the mix of surprise and relief over the transmission as he radioed in to the base, letting them know it was really him about to enter their airspace.

The last thing he needed was to get shot out of the sky. Again. And by his own friends, no less.

His movements were a little slow and the bruises and blood on his face caused worry among his fellow rebels, but they still greeted him with wide grins and gentle hugs.

The sea of people parted as the General made her way to him, a motherly smile on her face and a hint of a tear in her eye.

Leia held his battered face in her hands, pained at the signs of his torture and all the suffering he had endured. Poe raised his hands, gripping her wrists lightly, as if to physically reassure her that he was there. That he was okay. 

Bruised, yes, but not broken.

“It’s good to have you back,” she whispered for his ears only. 

“Wait ’til I tell you how it happened,” he smirked, with a small chuckle. 

“That will have to wait, Commander,” Leia announced reprovingly, but the tiny sparkle in her eye told him she was looking forward to the story. “You’re needed in medical.”

Poe didn’t fight her, and allowed himself to be lead toward Doctor Kalonia and her eager staff of medical officers. The General didn’t leave his side.

He was seated in front of the good doctor, but aside from giving her a nod of hello, all his attention was on his General.

“What news of the map?” Leia asked firmly. Poe didn’t take her change in tone personally. This was war after all.

“I retrieved the map from Lor San Tekka,” he replied with a frown. “The village was flooded with stormtroopers in minutes. I managed to get out but they grabbed San Tekka. I gave BB-8 the map and told him to go. That I’d find him later.

“Ren was there,” Poe added softly. He had to give the General credit, she didn’t flinch at the mention of her son. “He tried to get San Tekka to talk, but he refused. They—killed him.”

Leia closed her eyes and sighed. Poe gave her a moment to process the loss. When she looked to him once more, he continued.

“I tried to stop him—them. He stopped my blaster shot in midair,” Poe shook his head. “Used the Force to keep me from running, and had me dragged onto their ship. Ren ordered the village slaughtered. 

“I’m—I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it,” his voice trembled but the General dismissed his apology with a sorrowful smile.

“There’s nothing you could have done,” she consoled him, even as she knew it would not help relieve their shared pain. 

“General Hux had me interrogated on their ship,” he recounted. “You’ll be happy to know their interrogators are unimpressive.” The proud smirk on his lips twitched when he thought of what followed.

“Ren came when they couldn’t get me to talk.” Leia nodded, knowing that Poe, despite his resilience and strength, would have been no match for Kylo Ren’s mastery of the Force. 

“I fought, I tried to keep him out of my head,” he growled, and Doctor Kalonia paused her ministrations, waiting for him to calm before she resumed cleaning his cuts.

“How much does he know?” the General asked, her voice sympathetic and understanding.

“He knows BB-8 has the map,” Poe admitted shamefully. 

“We’ll send a team to look for the droid,” she declared calmly, nodding to an officer who hovered nearby. He nodded pointedly and left to inform the rest of the council.

“General,” Poe drew her attention once more, and Leia was concerned at the anguish she saw in his eyes. “Ren—when he was looking in my head, through my memories. He—he saw her.”

Leia inhaled sharply and her hands clenched unconsciously. In a strange way it reminded him of Ren’s reaction upon seeing the girl. The poor woman, obviously traumatized, who they had now unintentionally placed in danger.

“I don’t know how they’re connected but whatever Ren’s intentions, they didn’t look good,” Poe lamented, visibly unhappy with the General’s previous decision to leave him in the dark, even if he understood her caution. 

“We need to find her,” he shared a long, resolute look with the General, “before he does.” 

_________________

It had been a week since you had been visited by Leia’s enigmatic messenger. And nearly as long as you’d slept.

Bone-tired, you hadn’t even managed a trek to the mines since. Rhydonium was unstable enough. Between your jittery hands and sleepy eyes, it would be a recipe for disaster. The last thing you needed to do was drop some and blow yourself up.

You hadn’t even left your encampment. Knowing your luck, you’d hop on your speeder to head into town, pass out, and end up lost in the middle of the desert upon waking. Abafar was full of utter wastelands the locals called The Void. 

If anyone mistakenly wandered into the Void, there was a good chance you’d never see them again. Not alive, anyway. 

It wasn’t fear that kept you up.

Poe was hardly about to drag you away kicking and screaming. And Leia, while concerned with your well being, seemed content enough to wait you out. 

No, it was your own traitorous mind that kept you awake.

The first few days, it was your memory that haunted you. Not just of the massacre at the temple. Of the dead students and Luke’s desolate face. Instead it was Ben that haunted you.

Ben’s smile had always enthralled you. He was serious and understated more than not, but when you could make him laugh or smile, it was hard to resist joining him in his mirth. 

He was taller than you by age twelve. Nearly a foot taller by sixteen. You could remember the crick in your neck that would develop after spending so long staring up at him. 

Your mind could not seem to reconcile those memories with the man you were confronted with on that fateful night in the temple. 

Even when he was reserved, you could always see Ben’s emotions at play on his face. From concentration to concern, fondness to focus, Ben was always feeling something. 

It was the blankness on his face that night that spoke volumes. That was not the Ben you had grown up with, not any longer.

And it broke your heart.

You only wish you knew what had happened, what had driven him so far away from the light. If Luke and Leia knew, they never told you. And after enough time passed, there seemed no point in asking. Knowing wouldn’t change anything.

It should have been a relief when your memories finally stopped plaguing you that past night. But what followed merely confused you.

Well into the night, you had laid down once more in hopes in getting a few moments rest. They were few and far between, but all that was keeping you going lately. 

Resting your head on your makeshift pillow, you closed your eyes and reveled in the blankness of your mind. The memories that had been playing on repeat granting you a rare reprieve.

And then it began. Your mind, exhausted, felt a sudden tug. 

Your eyes opened blearily as you puzzled at the sensation. Rubbing your temples with the heels of your hands, you tried to ignore the strange feeling. You shifted on your bed and pulled your blanket higher up on your body.

The tug gave way to a buzzing and you let out a frustrated grunt. By now your head was beginning to hurt and you whimpered softly. You had no pain reliever in your camp and little way to ease your pain.

Tossing your arm over your eyes to block out all light, you forced yourself to relax. You took a deep, calming breath and tried to open up your mind in hopes of releasing whatever it was that was causing such tension.

It was as if a spark had suddenly ignited. 

You felt a wave of emotion, but it didn’t feel like it belonged to you. It felt triumphant. And then for a moment, the feeling had a voice.

“Open your eyes…”

It felt like a whispered plea, and in your wearied state you could do nothing by comply.

Your arm fell to your side and you opened your eyes. Your gaze roamed around your simple tent and the few personal belongings you owned. 

Feeling strangely unsatisfied, you turned your stare to the opening of your tent. From there you could see the rusted edge of your speeder, and the outline of the mines in the distance. 

There was only so much terrain that was commonly traveled on Abafar and the mines created a distinct landscape that many used as guides and landmarks when journeying to and from the city. 

Dissatisfaction turned to pleasure and the foreign emotions, which had before been inviting, turned sinister.

And then you were alone in your mind once again.

Your eyelids fluttered and you didn’t know what to make of what just happened. It had felt as if another person had crept into your mind, but you couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

You had spent so long isolated and cut off from the Force that it’s possible reappearance felt wrong and unwelcome. 

If you hadn’t been so weakened, so completely drained in body and mind, you would have been alarmed. You would have jumped from your bed and hopped astride your speeder. You would have run until you could run no more.

But your body was bone-weary and worn out, and gave in to the temptation to sleep.

______________

The sun was shining brighter which told you that hours had passed.

Your head was fuzzy and light, your body still longing for sleep after being deprived for so long. But the whirring noise in the distance that woke you was persistent.

And if you weren’t wrong, it sounded like it was moving closer. Fast. 

Rolling out bed, you didn’t bother with your jacket that might have protected you from the dust and sand as you stepped outside. You stumbled out of your tent in your pants and tank top, both of which had seen better days, and finished pulling on your boots as you searched the wide open terrain for the disturbance.

A speck of black caught your eye, hovering low to the ground but never touching the dunes of sand. You cocked your head to the side as you studied it.

Whatever it was, it moved quickly and began to take on a somewhat more familiar shape. Two wings, slightly curved in, circular cockpit. Your heart sped as your brain tried to catch up.

A TIE fighter. Not totally unheard of considering many pilots used Abafar to refuel. But to be so far out of Pons Ora? 

You were now wide awake and scrambling toward your landspeeder. You didn’t know what the Order was doing here, and you didn’t want to know. 

Left with little choice, you headed toward the mines and the cover they would provide. If the pilot wasn’t interested in you, then he would continue on ahead. If you were his target, you knew the layout of the mines undoubtedly better than him. 

When the fighter shifted focus, turning to follow you, there was no doubt who they were after.

The real question was why? 

It had to be that conversation with Poe. You didn’t know if someone overheard him mention the General, the Resistance. If someone had thought you were a some sort of spy or member of the rebellion. All you knew what that you needed to make it to the mines.

Your speeder, hardly in its prime, was no match for the TIE, which was gaining ground quickly. The mines were still too far off for comfort.

When the first blast hit, you nearly lost your balance as an explosion of sand and flame landed to your left. 

You had no time to process the fact that the blast, while bone-shaking, was still a good distance away from you. That whoever was chasing you didn’t intend to kill you.

At least not so impersonally as a blast from his onboard weapons.

The second blast, landing just a bit behind you, sent your speeder tumbling off course and you flying off. The dunes provided a little cushion as you slammed into the ground.

You were struggling to come to your feet as the TIE fighter came to a stop. Hugging your ribs, you stumbled as the pilot descended. 

You blinked, almost sure you had a concussion, confused by the sight of a man clad in black, face covered by a helmet reminiscent of Darth Vader. Smaller and sleeker than what you remembered in holograms and history texts.

That couldn’t be just another First Order pilot, and it definitely wasn’t a stormtrooper. 

You tripped over your own feet as you came to a sickening revelation, falling to your knees as your pursuer came into focus. His cape fluttered in the breeze as he approached. Soon he was in front of you. Hovered above you, he silently regarded your bedraggled form.

He called himself Kylo Ren now, you reminded yourself. He wasn’t—this was Kylo Ren. Your heart was beating out of your chest, the rush of blood all you could hear in your ears. Your gaze fell to his boots, your breathing heavy and labored as he remained eerily still.

“Look at me,” he demanded, the cold, mechanical voice that now replaced his once warm and deep tones made you shudder.

Unable to do so, your eyes remained on the ground.

There was the sound of a click and brushes of movement, but you didn’t glance up until you saw his knees bend as he crouched down to meet you at your level.

“Look at me,” he repeated, and recalled the voice in your head last night. His voice.

The mask was gone. In its place was a mess of black hair, achingly familiar, a pair of full lips pulled into a slight frown and finally haltingly recognizable brown eyes. 

His face, for all its familiarity, might as well been a mask itself. There was no anger, or curiosity, or happiness. It was like he was studying you. Deciding what to do with you.

And you knew this wasn’t the man you called a friend once. This wasn’t the boy you regarded with a young girl’s first blossom of love. This man was the Jedi Killer. The Commander of the First Order. And yet you still found yourself unable to stop the shattered plea that fell from your lips.

“Ben?”

His eyes narrowed and he jerked away, standing abruptly as his fists clenched. And as you waited for the pain that was sure to follow, he simply waved a hand and your world went black.


	3. Chapter 3

White walls greeted you when you woke.

Lying flat on your back, it took a minute for your eyes to focus. The ceiling above you and walls around you were a stark white, cold and sterile. The bed you were strewn across was more of a bench, without benefit of a cushion or anything that would offer comfort. 

Behind you was a door that blended in rather well with the walls, and you realized there was no mechanism beside it to open it. That must mean the only access to the room was on the outside.

The cell was cleaner and tidier than your humble tent, but it was a prison nonetheless. 

It took a long minute for you to work up the energy to sit up, pressing your back against the wall and positioning yourself to face the door. You couldn’t control much in this situation, but you would do your best not to be taken by surprise.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching you made you tense, your spine straight as they came to a stop. You could see the barest of shadows on the floor, hinting of their presence mere feet away.

Soon enough the door slide open, and you remained steady under the unrelenting gaze of Kylo Ren. Two stormtroopers flanked him, but he paid little attention to them. Taking a step inside your cell, and letting the door close behind him with a wave of his hand. The troopers remained on the other side as guards. 

You both spent some time in silence, appraising each other. You didn’t know what he was hoping to find as he studied you, but for you it was merely a battle of wills. If there was a trace of your old friend in him, you hadn’t seen much of it on Abafar. You wouldn’t waste time looking for Ben, not when it was Ren’s mask that stared you down. Instead it was pure stubbornness that drove you.

Someone had to speak first. One of you would crack, and it wouldn’t be you.

“We found your friend,” Ren’s voice, so void of human feeling thanks to his vocoder, still sounded so wrong to your ears. Even so, you smiled to yourself. It was a minor victory, but it was still yours.

“I don’t have any friends,” you said, admitting it more to yourself than to him. Yours was a desolately lonely existence, even if it was of your own making.

“The pilot,” he clarified as he moved to stand in front of your prone figure. He was trying to use his size to intimidate you undoubtedly, but you hardly shook under his withering glare.

Certainly you feared him, of that there was no doubt. But what good would shaking and crying do you? And until you discovered what exactly he wanted with you, all you could do was sit there and let him play his games.

“Imagine my surprise,” Ren continued, the tiniest note of amusement detectable, “after capturing a ‘legendary’ Resistance pilot, your face was one of the first things that appeared when I searched his mind. Why did he come for you?”

All traces of amusement were gone now. 

“I don’t know,” you replied softly. Your mind recalled Poe, dashing and honorable, all but begging you to leave with him. You wondered if you had taken his hand, if you had joined him, would something have turned out differently? Would he have still been captured by the First Order? You felt bile creep up your throat.

“Is he dead?” your voice a harsh whisper.

“He is an enemy of the First Order,” Ren declared darkly. “and was dealt with thusly.”

You clenched your jaw at his non answer. Whatever his fate, the outcome would likely be the same in the end. Torture or death, the Order didn’t grant rebel fighters many options. But you still wanted to know, needed to know.

Poe seemed a good man. He didn’t deserve whatever they were doing to him. Or had done to him. A stray thought left you wondering if he could be on this very ship. Was he a few cells away, battered and broken?

As your worries began to get the better of you, you felt the smallest push. The sensation, once very familiar, was the only warning you got before Ren invaded your mind in full.

Letting out a pained grunt, you struggled to save your thoughts from his relentless perusal. Your hands fisted, and you clawed at your temples before letting out an angry shout.

“ _Get out!_ ”

You don’t know what did it. If it was the power of your anger and grief that the Force was drawn to, or simply long held power that brimmed at the surface, but you shuddered at the shockwave effect that your shout had. At once you were alone in your thoughts again. Ren took a surprised step back, his limbs taut and hands clenched. 

Having control of your mind once more, you felt like a weight had been lifted and you took in a shaky breath. 

“And here I thought you all but powerless,” he sneered.

“Why am I here?” you tried to sound strong, demanding, but the hesitancy in your voice betrayed you. You may be no match for the great Kylo Ren, but you were stronger than he thought. Stronger than even you thought. 

A connection with the Force, though it might weaken, never truly disappeared.

“Why did I search you out?” He considered you with a slight tilt of his head. “Why are you now my…guest?” At that he gave a small but scornful chuckle. “Because for some reason the Resistance believes you useful.”

Crouching down to meet you eye to eye, Ren regarded you curiously. 

“I would have killed you,” he revealed, and you lost all feigned bravado at his confession. “If you are a possible ally to the Resistance, then you are a threat to the Order. 

“But you are here, alive, because the Supreme Leader wills it.” 

If there was ever a man you could honestly say you hated, it was the Supreme Leader. You hadn’t learned every detail of what happened that fateful night at the Jedi temple, of what had driven Ben to turn so viciously on his brothers and sisters. But you were not wholly ignorant. Ben had become the Supreme Leader’s pupil soon after. As Snoke’s mentee, you knew that man (or monster) had made Ben his puppet as he pulled the strings behind the scenes. 

You loathed Snoke, and Ren’s willingness to anything his new Master demanded, even sparing your life, had you shaking your head in dismay.

“What happened to you?” you sighed sorrowfully. “Ben—” 

“ _Ben_ is _dead_!” he roared, slamming a furious fist into the wall beside your head. “I killed him all those years ago,” Ren growled. “Like I should have killed you.”

“Why didn’t you?” you breath hanging on his every word. He was terrifying in his fury, but you refused to allow yourself to cry. This moment was too important. Maybe you would finally discover why he had spared you. What drove him to simply walk away and leave you shattered but alive among the carnage he had caused.

“ _Sentiment_ ,” he sneered, pushing himself up from the floor and drawing to his full height. You could actually feel his scowl as if burning your skin. “Weakness.”

Composing himself, Ren towered over you, standing inhumanly still. 

“You should have died with the rest of them. I should have chased you to the Outer Rim and ended you then. But the Supreme Leader thought you weak. You were no threat and in his mercy he allowed you to live.” Snoke had no mercy, and you found yourself unable to look at Ren’s masked face any longer. 

A victory for him, to be sure. 

Ren took a small step forward and you felt his power urge your chin up, unwillingly meeting his gaze. 

His hands reached for the latches of his mask, pulling it away to reveal the face that would always haunt your dreams and nightmares. You stared into his fathomless brown eyes, and saw nothing.

“It was the act of a craven child,” he cautioned you. “That boy is long dead. And as soon as the Supreme Leader wills it, I _will_ correct the mistake.”

With that promise, he backed away and waved his hand. The door opened, the troopers outside turning to look at their Commander as he walked out, head held high. You, by contrast, were no longer controlled by his manipulation of the force. Your chin fell to your chest and you finally allowed yourself to give in to the fear.

Your hands shook as the guards looked away from you in dismissal and the door to your cell closed once more. 

After a few minutes of giving in to your feelings of terror and despair, you took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, forcing your body to calm down. 

You had spent years running, ignoring your past and your connection with the Force. Pretending like it had been another’s life. But there was no more pretending. You weren’t allowed that luxury anymore. You may not know why the Supreme Leader wanted you alive, but you did know that Ben—Kylo Ren—would not be your unlikely savior. Not this time.

If you had any hope of surviving, you would have to welcome the Force back like an old friend. Invite it into your body, will it into your hands and mind. Learn once more how to mold it to your will. 

It was no easy feat. It would take a lot of effort and time. Still, you considered as you sat taller and folded your legs in front you, resting your hands in your lap, you had nothing but time. 

You closed your eyes, your breathing slowed, and you encouraged your mind to go blank. Mentally, you began to reach out to the void, to find your connection with the Force and stoke it, allow it to grow and flourish. 

And as you gazed into the darkness, you could feel something sinister looking back at you.


	4. Chapter 4

Four:

Two weeks had passed, by your estimate, since you last saw Ben. Since you last saw anyone besides anonymous storm troopers who only came by your cell to drop off your meals. The food was rather meager but you had hardly expected a feast. At least it kept your stomach relatively full and your body in decent enough condition.

With little options left to you for entertainment, you spent most of your time meditating. 

It felt strange to return to your old habit. As a child, you spent hours a day meditating in between training. Master Luke said it would help strengthen your connection to the Force. The more you welcomed its presence, the easier you could call upon your power in times of need. It had been many years since you had actively reached out to the Force. When you were in hiding, you never tried to create a connection. You had wanted nothing to do with it.

When you meditated back then, it was simply in hopes of calming your mind. The hard work you forced upon yourself kept you distracted during the remaining time of your exile. As long as you kept busy, your mind didn’t wander and the temptation to return to Leia, to find your wayward Master, or to dwell on thoughts of Ben didn’t overwhelm you.

But there would be little benefit from denying your connection with the Force any longer. You didn’t know why the Supreme Leader wanted you here, or what Ben intended to do with you, but you would need your wits about you. 

Your powers were weak, had always been in comparison to Ben, but if you hoped to survive your imprisonment you would have to embrace them once more. You could no longer deny your Jedi training.

It might be the only thing that saved your life.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath through your nose and exhaling out your mouth. Your back rested flatly against the cold wall of your cell, legs crossed and hands in your lap. The background noise of the ship, the marching feet of storm troopers, the occasional announcement on the loudspeakers, faded as you allowed the Force to flow through you.

When your eyes opened you were no longer in your barren cell. 

Taken aback, you pushed yourself slowly to your feet. You studied the room you where you now stood, unsure. The gray walls resembled those on the ship and you imagined you were still within its confines. 

It had been so long since you had even attempted projecting your consciousness, that feeling had you floundering.

A lone pedestal caught your attention and you took hesitant steps toward it, regarding it curiously. 

Something warped and black sat atop what almost looked like sand. But the color was too dark, and it’s texture flaked instead of gritty. Your stomach dropped when the only logical answer came to you.

Ashes. But what, or who, had burned?

The prized piece at the center of the pedestal was mangled but anyone who had lived through the Empire’s reign, or its subsequent fall, could tell what it was. Its owner had been the stuff of nightmares. 

Darth Vader. His melted and disfigured mask was on display like a treasured possession.

It was then when you knew exactly where you were, whose rooms you were in.

“Kriffing hell,” you muttered in shock.

“How did you get out?” a sharp demand caused you to turn on your heel. You were confronted with an angry Ben glaring down at you.

His mask was off, but his expression only spoke to the fury that was running though him. His hand shot out, calling the power of the Force to him as he tried to pry your answer from you. “Tell me.”

You didn’t feel any compulsion to reply, which took you slightly by surprise. Instead, you cocked your head to the side curiously. 

There had been a time when you and Ben were so close, so entwined in friendship that it felt as if you shared thoughts. As if you could speak to each other with merely a look. But nothing like this had ever happened before. 

Kylo’s eyes narrowed, looking you up and down.

“You aren’t here,” he considered, taking a tentative step forward. You took an unconscious step back. “You aren’t strong enough to project,” he was mostly talking to himself. “It would kill you. No…this is something else…

“I can’t see where you are. Can you see where I am?”

“You have Vader’s mask,” your voice shook, appalled. “Like a trophy, an idol. Kriff, Ben!” 

You could never quite bring yourself to call him by his chosen name. You didn’t know Kylo Ren. You knew Ben Solo. And no matter what he had done, and planned to do, you wouldn’t delude yourself into acting as if he were a separate person. 

“No!” he shouted furiously. He pointed an accusing finger in your face, “Don’t call me that!” 

You shook your head in stubborn refusal. 

“He was a monster!” you exclaimed, disgusted by the sight. Your normal sense of caution around him vanished as you stumbled away from the cursed object. 

“He was a leader,” Kylo snapped. “He was powerful. He had a vision for the galaxy and I will see it through.”

“You’re delusional,” you murmured sadly, forcing yourself to stand your ground as he strode angrily toward you. He dwarfed you with his presence, made you feel paltry and fragile. 

“I am stronger than he ever was,” he spat, his body crowding you now as you turned in on yourself, making yourself smaller. “He allowed emotion to overcome him, to weaken him. I won’t make the same mistake.”

The sneer that crossed his face spoke volumes about how he felt about you. Whatever feelings he had for you in the past, platonic or other, they were gone. He had smothered all trace of affection and care until only a shell of his former self remained. 

It made you want to cry. To see what had become of him shattered a tiny part of your heart you didn’t even realize still belonged to him.

“Then why am I here?” you wondered, voice soft and confused. 

And you were utterly confused. If his new Master taught him to eschew all attachments, what was the benefit of keeping you around? You were nothing but a physical reminder of his past. A reminder of his parents, Master Luke, the Jedi, everything he had left behind that night in the temple.

You met his stare and you saw the first crack in his stone faced facade. You inhaled sharply at the uncertainty in his eyes.

Jaw clenched and mouth tense, he reluctantly admitted, “I don’t know.” 

You licked your lips nervously and allowed a sliver of hope to enter your heart at his hesitation.

All too quickly the steely determination returned to his gaze and he spoke softly, with a dark promise. 

“But I am going to find out.”

And in an instant you were back in your body, back in the cell that had become your home, and you felt fear like never before.

———————————-

The larger than life hologram of the Supreme Leader glitched before coming into focus. In the darkness Snoke appeared like a colossus, dwarfing his apprentice who greeted him on one knee and with bowed head. 

Kylo attempted to look pliant and submissive, but Snoke was hardly fooled. Ren’s temper was nearly a physical thing and even from a distance he could feel it ebbing and crashing as his pupil struggled to remain calm.

“Why have you called upon me?” he drawled, his scarred mouth pulling into a deep frown. 

In truth he knew what had brought Ren to his throne, it had only been a matter of time. Snoke had purposely left the boy to fret and seethe these past weeks. The dark side was fueled by passion and anger, after all. Kylo Ren, with all his resentment and indignation, was feeding it heartily even when he was merely thinking of the girl.

“Supreme Leader,” the vocoder on Kylo’s mask making his voice sound hollow, “I seek your wisdom.”

Snoke waved his hand lazily and Ren moved to stand, still showing deference to his Master.

“The girl…” he began again, unsure how to approach his temperamental lord. “She is no Jedi. She has no knowledge of the Resistance. She is of no consequence and yet she remains on the Finalizer—”

“And there she shall remain,” Snoke interrupted with a curl of his lip.

“She is a distraction!” Ren erupted, and Snoke didn’t bother covering his delighted grin.

“Precisely,” he agreed, and Kylo fell silent. “She distracts you.”

Leaning forward in his throne, Snoke towered above Kylo. It made the Commander of the First Order feel like an errant child and he loathed it.

“You say she is of no consequence,” he continued drolly. “And yet you failed to kill her at the temple. You allowed her to escape. I have taught you to reject sentiment, and yet sentiment is what has kept her alive all these years. Even now, locked away and out of sight, she haunts you. Do you know why that is?” Snoke eyed his apprentice with vague amusement. 

“A bond, when forged through the Force, is not easily broken.” Kylo was thankful for the mask he donned, it kept Snoke from seeing his embarrassed rage. “Your grandfather, without benefit of such a bond, allowed jealousy and passion to consume him and caused him to lose sight of his plans. To waste his potential. But where Vader failed, you will flourish.”

“Supreme Leader—” Kylo tried to argue, but Snoke huffed scornfully. 

“The bond exists,” he jeered. “Do not deny it, boy. You may not have felt it as strongly until now, until the girl began to connect to the Force once more, but it has endured since your youth. 

“It has benefited your training until now to allow it to remain unacknowledged,” Snoke revealed, and Kylo’s body tensed. “You needed to separate yourself from the child you once were. Now that you have grown so powerful, it can be of use to us.”

“You taught me to renounce emotion,” Kylo tried to understand.

“Emotion is what fuels the dark side,” Snoke hissed. “I taught you to reject sentimentality. Love. Love is a weakness. It is what cost your grandfather everything. But passion is an emotion. Passion, and hate, and anger, all are food that nourish your strength and power. 

“If you are to grow to your true potential, you also need control. No one can rival your power, but you lack discipline. You are reckless. You are heedless and feckless and it will get you killed.”

Kylo’s teeth ground together at his Master’s reprimand.

“The girl is no match for your power over the Force,” Snoke admitted blithely. “But in regards to restraint, she is your superior.

“The bond you wish to deny can grant you the control you lack. But you must nurture it. The girl is but a pawn,” he said dismissively. “She is a conduit. Through your bond, you will only grow stronger.”

Head bowed in reluctant acceptance, Kylo entreated, “What would you have me do?”

“Keep her close,” Snoke command was low and coaxing. “Foster the bond you share. Learn from it. Master your emotion until you can wield it just as steadily as your lightsaber.”

“And then?” he wondered aloud. Snoke gave a sinister grin. It was a terrible thing to behold and a small part of Kylo worried at the sight of it.

“When you have succeeded,” the Supreme Leader declared, sitting back in this throne with an air of victory, “you will sever the bond and kill the girl.”


End file.
